


Things That You Know

by OnceAndFloral



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I've returned to form which is, M/M, philosophical conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28721748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAndFloral/pseuds/OnceAndFloral
Summary: Medic and Engie have a conversation during routine maintenance of the Gunslinger.
Relationships: Engineer/Medic (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	Things That You Know

**Author's Note:**

> someone on a discord server requested Gunslinger angst when I asked for prompts so here we go.

There was a soft echo of metal tools clicking together as Engie laid back in the chair while Medic fiddled with the Gunslinger. Routine check up, as it were. Neither of them had said anything in a while, and the sun had long since left the fluorescent lights to do the work of illuminating the room. It was nice to be able to have a quiet moment.

“Y’know, I never thought I'd say this again, but I could really go for a cigarette right now,” Engie mused.

“I offered anesthetics earlier.” Medic didn't look up from his work, squinting closer at something.

“Naw, I never used them for the kick. Was a social smoker, or whatever they call it.”

“Hm… I've never seen you smoke before.”

“Gave it up years before I came here. Besides, if I started up again Scout would be liable to kick my head clean off if I walked behind him.”

Medic chuckled. “Ah, yes. You'd think that our Spy would do something to make himself less obvious.”

“Becomin’ a real problem.” They smiled at each other. Damn, it felt good to smile easy again. 

Didn't last long though. Engie got a flare up of pain in his arm, and his eyes darted to the ceiling as he tried to grit his teeth and get through it. His hands were shaking. Well, one of them. Medic passed him a balled up cloth to grip.

“I must say, I don't understand why you won't accept the anesthesia,” Medic said. “I assure you that it's very pleasant.”

“Uh, I don't know if pleasant is the right word for it, Doc. ‘Sides, it's fine. The thing’s making me less human anyways.” Medic paused very suddenly, still as a statue as he stared down at the work he had been doing. “Um. You there, sawbones?”

“Why would you think you are less than human?”

“I’ve got a robotic arm, ‘s a little weird.”

“But you don’t become… _less_ human by changing something.” He let out a one note laugh. “If that were the case, none of us would be human. I mean, what with the pigeon blood.”

“I… what?”

Medic didn’t even acknowledge him, just plowed forward. “Regardless, we are all constantly going through personal changes. I am still ‘me’ despite being different from the man I was ten years ago.”

“That’s not really what I meant.”

“Are other prosthetic users ‘less human’ because of their aids?”

“No, ‘course not.”

“Then why does it apply to you alone?”

“Because what I did was different! I did it on purpose!”

He waited for Medic to respond. Instead, he finally resumed his work that he’d originally abandoned for this conversation. A minute or so of relative silence passed before he finally said something.

“My friend, I don’t think you see yourself as less than human. I think you see yourself as a monster.”

Engie raised an eyebrow. “There’s a difference?”

“Yes, quite. It’s very easy to forget that even when we perform heinous acts, we are still human. Almost as easy to forget as it is important to remember. Relax for a moment.” Engie winced as Medic yanked out something caught in between parts. “Human beings can still be monsters, though. We don’t want to be those people, so perhaps it’s easier to not think of yourself as human at all. Better if you have a concrete symbol to attach it to.”

Something rose up in Engie’s throat and made it hard to breathe. “I…”

“Sh. I know. You don’t need to tell me everything you’ve done. This is an exam chair, not a confession booth. You don’t even know half of my crimes, and I’d prefer to keep our relationship on equal footing, hm?”

Well, what was he supposed to say to that? That Engie wanted to tell him everything? And that definitely was because he felt like Medic was the only one who would really understand and not because he just wanted Medic to know everything about him for weird, poetic, hard to define reasons? 

He settled for something simpler.

“I’ve done a lot of things to hurt people, Doc,” Engie said quietly. “And I don’t think I always cared.”

That was the problem with the Gunslinger. He’d done it to himself, for the sole reason of being able to hurt people better. Its dilemma wasn’t intrinsic, it was a symbol, just like Medic had said. God, he could have done things to help people, and here he was building guns to kill others and _he didn’t want to leave._

“We’ve all hurt many people.” Medic replied. “We’re not the first, and we won’t be the last. My only wish is that you’ll at least be kind to yourself.”

Engie laughed and blinked a few times before tears could start forming. “Careful there, showin’ some attachment to a teammate. You’ll ruin your track record.”

“Oh, if there’s one person I’m genuinely attached to here, it’s you. I’d take the compliment before I feel like rescinding it. One more pinch.” Engie braced himself through it, and Medic sat back, dusting off his hands and examining his work. “That should do it for now. Our next appointment is for installment of upgrades, ja?”

“Should be, yea. I’d do it myself but, y’know. One of my hands would be real busy.”

“Of course.” Medic clapped his shoulder. “Next time we should have a happier conversation. Something with less philosophy.”

“I can get onboard with that.” 

Medic held out a hand to help him out of the chair, and he accepted it. It was definitely late enough that both of them should be getting to bed. They had an agreement that neither one would stay up on maintenance nights so at least they’d get one half decent night of sleep.

“Have a good night, Engineer,” Medic called as he gathered his tools up.

“You too.” He paused at the door, thinking hard about something he’d noticed in Medic’s eyes. “Uh, hey, Doc?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t think you’re a monster, either.”

Medic blinked, seemingly thrown off for a moment. Then he smiled, exhaustion softening the edges but nonetheless, it was genuine. “I’m glad.”


End file.
